


things like that drive me out of my mind

by woodchoc_magnum



Series: love will find a way [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Eddie Diaz Week 2020 (9-1-1 TV), Eddie Diaz-centric (9-1-1 TV), Jealous Evan "Buck" Buckley, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodchoc_magnum/pseuds/woodchoc_magnum
Summary: Day 1: “They gave you their number?” + jealousyIn which Buck does not react well to a famous movie star putting the moves on Eddie.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: love will find a way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005498
Comments: 48
Kudos: 335





	things like that drive me out of my mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time doing one of these weeks! I'm _nervous._
> 
> The first six fics make up one story but can be read independently of each other. Day 7 is its own thing.
> 
> This isn't the kind of thing I normally write, so I hope you enjoy!

"Buck – fuck, marry, kill – Jennifer Connelly, Hilary Swank, Cate Blanchett – go."

"Which one is Jennifer Connelly?"

Eddie groaned as Hen and Chimney began to laugh again. "You guys, seriously, you are playing this game with the worst person," he complained.

"I know who they are," Buck retorted from atop the ladder truck. "I just want a refresher about Jennifer Connelly."

"She's the chick from _Labyrinth_ ," Chimney called from the ambulance.

Buck looked over at Eddie, lost. "Something a little more recent, Chim," Eddie said dryly. " _A Beautiful Mind._ "

"Haven't seen it," Buck replied.

"Pick someone else," Hen shouted at Chimney.

"Fine! Let's go old school, Buck. Meryl Streep, Goldie Hawn and Sigourney Weaver. Go."

Eddie groaned again, about to start shouting at them to shut up, when the distinct rumble of a low-flying plane made him look up at the roof of the station. The engine sounded like it was sputtering, and they were all exchanging worried looks when the building began to shake, followed by the distinct sound of metal screeching on pavement as the plane crash landed a few blocks away.

Bobby came running out of his office and onto the street, as a smoke cloud rose into the sky. The alarms went off, and Eddie leapt down off the top of the fire engine, yanked on his gear, and dived into the truck beside Buck, who raised his eyebrows at him nervously.

They arrived at the scene – the pilot of the jet had tried to land on the road, and for the most part they were successful, but cars were smashed up against each other where they'd attempted to clear a path for the plane. The jet was missing its wheels and one wing, on an angle in a McDonald's parking lot, and the distinct smell of jet fuel was in the air.

"Buck, Eddie, clear the plane," Bobby ordered. "Gear up; take oxygen with you. If it looks like it's going to blow, get the hell out of there."

They grabbed their equipment and ran over to the fuselage of the plane – one of those fancy private jets that celebrities were so fond of. Eddie, never the hugest fan of flying, thought they looked like little metal death traps, especially when they were smoking in a McDonald's car park.

They could hear people screaming from inside – the emergency exit seemed to be jammed shut. Fuel was leaking but there were no immediate sources of ignition nearby, so Buck and Eddie set to work prying the door open, finally resorting to the Jaws of Life to pop it free. They stepped back as the door finally opened, inflating the emergency slide, and terrified passengers began to disembark the plane.

Once the five passengers and two crew members were out, the co-pilot leaned out and said to Eddie, "The pilot is unconscious in the cockpit; I can't wake her up."

"All right, we'll get her out," Eddie called, gesturing for him to disembark. "Buck, you want to grab a backboard? I'll go inside and see how she is."

Buck gave him a thumbs up and jogged over to the truck, bypassing the group of passengers from the plane – three women and two men, all dressed in evening clothes. Eddie thought he vaguely recognised one of the women but continued into the plane and to the cockpit, stepping over a familiar gold statue as it rolled on the floor.

"Help, help," he heard a groggy voice groaning. "Please."

"I'm here," Eddie replied as he entered the smoky cockpit. "LAFD. We're going to get you out."

The pilot nodded, a trickle of blood running down her face. "There were… geese," she murmured, her eyes glassy and disoriented. "I couldn't… they got caught in the engine, and…"

As Eddie was checking her over, Buck's heavy footsteps sounded, and then stopped abruptly. "Hey, is that an Oscar?"

"Yeah, it is," Eddie called. "You got the backboard?"

"Yep. Bobby's here as well."

"All right." Eddie smiled reassuringly at the pilot. "You're okay. We're going to lie you down on the board and get you out of here. Just hang tight."

"I tried to avoid… the cars…" she murmured, her head lolling to the side.

"Neck brace," Buck said, passing it in through the open door.

"Thanks." Eddie quickly worked to secure her, and then cut through her safety harness with his knife. He braced her as he lifted her out of the seat, guiding her towards Buck, who hooked his hands under her arms and gently lowered her onto the backboard.

Buck and Bobby carried her out of the fuselage, and Eddie followed them out, stepping over the discarded Oscar. He double-checked to make sure the rest of the plane was empty before disembarking and was almost immediately accosted by a distraught man with a shock of bright pink hair.

"Her Oscar!" he shouted, gesturing to the plane. "I have to retrieve her Oscar!"

"It's a fucking statue," Eddie snapped, pushing the man back. "Come on, dude, your plane just crashed."

The pink-haired weirdo gave him a shove, and he stumbled backwards and over a piece of debris, landing on his back. He watched as the man sprinted over to the fuselage, still leaking fuel, and climbed into the wreckage.

"Hey!" Buck was shouting, sprinting back over to them. "Eddie! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, that idiot's gone inside," Eddie replied angrily, picking himself up.

Buck swore, jogging over to the plane as the man appeared triumphantly, holding the statue over his head. "Get the fuck out of there," Buck shouted at him, grabbing him by the elbow. "The thing could blow any second."

"This is more important than my life!" he said dramatically, yanking out of Buck's grasp and rushing over to the group of passengers. "Lydia, I found it."

A woman in a glittery black evening gown stepped forward. "Oh Jamie, thank you so much," she replied, with such fake relief it almost made him want to puke. "You're my hero."

Buck gave the group a withering look, but it was Eddie who stomped over to them and snapped, "You do realise you were just in a plane crash, right, and that shitty piece of gold isn't worth nearly as much as your life?"

It was then that he recognised her – Lydia Williams, who'd won the Oscar only the weekend before. She'd played Elizabeth Taylor in a biopic about her life, and vaguely resembled the classic movie star. Eddie and Buck had attempted to watch the movie together on Netflix, but had both fallen asleep around the halfway mark.

"I'm so sorry," she said to him, with a heavy affect in her voice. "I did try to grab it as we were leaving but it's so heavy that I simply couldn't hold onto it. I hurt my wrist filming my latest movie—"

"I don't care," Eddie cut in, taking his helmet off, raising his eyebrows at her. "That plane could've blown up with your friend in it, and you guys are too close as it is, so back up. You're all going to the hospital to be checked out."

"We have an event," one of the other women said indignantly.

"You just survived a plane crash," he replied flatly. "You're going to the hospital."

Lydia was staring at him with interest, her head tilted to the side. "You're so handsome. Have you ever done any acting or modelling?"

He exhaled impatiently. "No. Guys, seriously, can you move back a bit?" He herded them further away from the fuselage and over to the ambulance.

Buck gave the group a cursory glance as he walked past with Bobby, and then stopped in his tracks and said, "Lydia Williams?"

"That's me!" she replied, turning to him with a bright, movie-star smile.

"Oh, cool." Buck nodded at her and followed Bobby over to one of the many car wrecks on the street.

"Wait here," Eddie said to the group, about to put his helmet on, when she touched his arm.

"You're so handsome," she said. "You'd look amazing on my arm at a premiere, all dolled up. Your bone structure is _gorgeous_."

"I'm not interested. Wait here; the paramedics will be over to assess you in a minute." He turned away from them, groaning when she snagged his elbow. "Ma'am, I have a job to do."

"I realise that, and ooh, you don't have to get snippy," she practically purred. "Give me your phone; I'll put my number in."

"Are you for real?"

"Here," one of her assistants said, passing her a Sharpie.

Lydia grabbed Eddie's hand, pushed his sleeve up, and scrawled her cell phone number on his arm. "Call me, handsome," she purred, and kissed him on the cheek.

Eddie pulled away from her indignantly, put his helmet on, and strode away from them.

~

It wasn't until he was seated in the truck beside Buck on the way back to the station that he realised she'd left more than her number on his skin.

Buck was staring at him with a look of horror on his face. "What the hell is that?"

"What?" he asked, looking around the truck, confused.

"On your face."

Eddie touched his cheek. "What?"

"Someone kissed you?!"

" _Buck_ ," Bobby's voice came over their headset. "Calm down."

Eddie rubbed his cheek angrily and said, "That stupid actress. Is it gone?"

Buck shook his head, his lips pulled taut.

What the fuck was that about? Eddie leaned over and punched his arm lightly, and when Buck turned to him again, he raised his eyebrows as if to say, ' _What the fuck is your problem?_ '

Buck just shrugged; his expression stony.

They returned to the station in silence, Eddie totally confused, and Buck disappeared before Eddie could confront him. He was meant to be decompressing with video games and beers at Buck's apartment after work, but Buck was all bent out of shape about _something._

It was the end of their shift, and instead of showering at the station, Eddie simply went into the locker room and changed into his street clothes. Buck appeared as he slipped into his jacket, leaning against the lockers with his arms folded across his chest.

"You good?" Eddie asked him.

Buck nodded. "Yep."

"We still getting pizza? Meet you at the loft?"

"Yep." Buck flashed him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I… yeah. Just… yeah. I don't know."

"It's okay," he replied, because what else was there to say? "I'm not interested."

"She's interested in _you._ "

He shrugged. "I couldn't care less."

~

Eddie beat Buck to the loft by five minutes and let himself in, shrugging out of his jacket. He immediately went to fiddle with the thermostat – Buck kept the apartment a couple of degrees above freezing. He said he ran hot; Eddie thought the real reason was that he liked to burrow under as many blankets as he could, even in the middle of summer. Eddie's white Henley and jeans were no match for the arctic conditions of the loft.

He was sitting at the bench, checking his messages, when the door opened and Buck came in, dropping his bag next to Eddie's on the floor as he kicked his shoes off. "Hey," Buck greeted him. "All good?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie replied. "You want to Facetime with Chris in a bit?"

"Sure." Buck emptied his pockets into the bowl near the door, took off his jacket, and then wandered over to the fridge. "Crazy day."

"Yeah, that was a real twist ending at the end there," Eddie remarked. "What if the plane had blown up while he was searching for the Oscar?"

"Then his death would've been a real tragedy," Buck said dryly, popping the top off his beer. "Pepperoni?"

"Nah, get that flamethrower one," Eddie replied. "The really spicy one."

"The one that burned my mouth out?"

"Yep."

Buck smirked at him, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Sure, but we're getting something else as well. Margherita."

"Boring."

"You are."

Eddie grinned, running a hand through his hair. The easy expression on Buck's face changed, and he reached out to grasp Eddie's wrist, turning his hand over. "What's this?" he asked curiously, pushing his sleeve up. "Whose phone number is this?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Lydia Williams. She wrote it on me at the scene."

Buck gaped at him, and said incredulously, " _She gave you her number?_ "

"Yeah, I thought it was a bit fucking forward." Eddie examined the number with a grimace, and shook his head. "Anyway, what's the reality of that situation? I call her up, she beds a firefighter, and she's got a fun little story to tell the tabloids. No thanks."

"You'd sleep with her," Buck clarified, gazing at him intently. "You'd actually sleep with her."

"No, it was a hypothetical scenario." Eddie eyed him curiously. "What's your problem?"

"My problem is that you're getting hit on at plane crashes," Buck muttered.

Smirking, Eddie said, "She said I could be a model."

Buck gaped at him. "Fuck off."

"She did."

"No. Fuck off." Buck swigged his beer aggressively, leaning over the bench, glaring at his phone. "I should call her and tell her to get fucked."

"Oh why, you jealous or something?" Eddie teased.

Buck met his eyes; his jaw clenched, and said nothing.

Eddie's heart dropped into his stomach. _Shit._

~to be continued~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Kat ([cinematicnomad](https://cinematicnomad.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr) for all your help!
> 
> The title is from [Satellite of Love by Lou Reed](https://youtu.be/FH2EgYq_NCY)
> 
> Talk to me @ Tumblr: [woodchoc-magnum](https://woodchoc-magnum.tumblr.com/)


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